Poker Night At Cheryl's Place
by Red Witch
Summary: Ron joins the gang for one of their infamous poker nights.


**The disclaimer telling you that I don't own any Archer characters has been betted away. This is more madness from my tiny little mind. **

**Poker Night At Cheryl's Place **

"Full house!" Ron showed his cards.

"Great TV show!" Cheryl cheered.

"He means his hand is a full house you ding dong," Pam groaned as she threw down her cards. "Ugh!"

"Damn it!" Ray groaned. "That beats a pair!"

"Does that count as phrasing?" Krieger asked.

"You win again Ron," Cyril groaned.

"Come to Ron," Ron pulled a stack of candy bars and candy bags towards him. "Although my blood sugar levels may not appreciate this."

"This is still a sweet game room," Pam looked around at the lavish game room that was in the mansion they inhabited.

"And a sweeter pot," Ron said. "Literally. Why are we playing for candy instead of money?"

"Because some people lose their shit when they lose money," Cheryl pointed at Pam. "I mean **her!**"

Pam pointed to Cheryl. "And **some people**, even though they have a ton of cash they can afford to lose, just lose their shit when they **do **lose! I mean **her**!"

"And some people are just batshit crazy," Ray pointed to both Pam and Cheryl.

"Let's just say there are fewer incidents when we're playing for candy instead of cash," Cyril explained. "Not that there aren't any with candy."

"Little tip," Krieger groaned. "Don't take anything from Pam's pot unless you want to be body slammed into the wall."

"I do!" Cheryl giggled.

"I'm just glad we're having poker night at all," Ray said. "Even if I'm having a bad night. Cyril banned poker night until we found out about this game room."

"He hates poker night because he sucks at it," Cheryl explained.

"It's not that I hate poker night. I just don't want the agency to be trashed again," Cyril said.

"_Again?"_ Ron asked.

"There have been a few…" Krieger paused. "Incidents."

"Violent tantrums," Ray rolled his eyes.

"And a couple of gun battles," Cheryl added. "Not all of them were my fault by the way."

"_Gun battles_?" Ron asked. "How many times has **that** happened?"

"Uh…" Krieger paused. "Pretty much all the time actually."

"Which is why I don't want them held at the agency anymore," Cyril groaned. "My insurance plan can't handle it."

"We don't have any insurance," Pam pointed out.

"That's why we can't handle it," Cyril told her.

"Seriously?" Ron did a double take. "Are you telling me all your poker nights end in gunfire?"

"Nah," Ray shook his head. "Sometimes they just get really weird."

"Hopefully tonight will be a quiet evening," Cyril sighed.

"You really **believe** that?" Pam snickered.

"I have to Pam," Cyril sighed. "I have to."

"So, Ron," Krieger asked. "How's the car business going?"

"Pretty well, actually," Ron said. "I'm thinking of opening a ninth dealership in the future."

"That's impressive," Ray whistled.

"I thought the car business was slowing down?" Cyril asked.

"Regular cars maybe," Ron shrugged. "But rich people and upper middle class business men can't get enough of Cadillacs. They're buying them like back in the Beanie Baby craze."

"That reminds me," Pam paused. "I need to check my portfolio."

"Your portfolio?" Cyril asked. "I didn't know you had stocks and bonds."

"I don't," Pam said. "I have Beanie Babies."

"Me too," Ray said.

"Me too," Krieger nodded.

Ron looked at Cyril. "Do you want to tell them or should I?"

"It's not worth it," Cyril sighed.

"Neither are the Beanie Babies," Cheryl giggled.

"WHAT?" Pam shouted.

"God damn!" Ray swore.

"Aww man!" Krieger groaned. "Not even the bears?"

"Not as much as you'd think," Cyril said.

"Well what about comic books?" Krieger asked.

"Unless most of them are before 1960 or early ones with Wolverine…" Cyril shook his head. "I wouldn't hold my breath."

"Aw man!" Krieger groaned.

"Why do you think I've been trying to find this new thing called work for the agency?" Cyril shouted.

"Uh oh," Pam blinked. "I think I need to rework my retirement plan."

"Me too," Ray groaned.

"To be fair a lot of stocks in the stock market aren't that much better," Ron pointed out.

"Tell me about it," Cyril groaned. "I was positive Solyndra was a sure thing!"

"Even I knew that wasn't gonna work," Ray said.

"We were better off investing in the comics and Beanie Babies," Pam said.

"Same result," Cyril said.

"Uh no," Pam said. "We still have the comics and Beanie Babies."

"Good. We can burn them for warmth in the winter," Ray groaned.

Cheryl giggled. "You're all gonna die poor."

"Good thing I have some side projects," Krieger said.

"Not so good knowing what kind of side projects you have," Cyril told him.

"Hey! Krieger Springs Water was really taking off!" Krieger protested. "Until the FDA had to stick their nose into my business."

"That's because it was a rip off!" Cyril snapped.

"So is ninety percent of the bottled water business!" Krieger snapped. "I bet nobody gives Aqua Panna the same shit I got!"

"Maybe you guys should try something different with your careers?" Ron suggested. "Pretty much anything different actually. This whole private eye thing doesn't seem to be working out for you."

"Well so far I haven't been paralyzed or had a body part eaten off so…" Ray shrugged.

"We make some money," Cyril protested.

"Yeah off of **her!"** Ron pointed to Cheryl. "And the way this golden goose is gulping the glue I wouldn't bet on her lasting another decade!"

"Well," Ray said. "I've decided to try and make my hobbies into a new side business. Or maybe a new career. I've been working on this little play…"

To this the majority of the table started to groan. _"Seriously_?" Krieger groaned. "Give me a break!"

"Ugggghhhh!" Cheryl rolled her eyes at the same time.

"Here we go…" Cyril rubbed his forehead.

"Oh God no…" Pam groaned. "Not **again**!"

"What?" Ray asked.

"Ray, we've been **over** this!" Cyril groaned. "Nobody wants to hear a musical about the Tea Dome Scandal even with hip hop beats!"

"Most people don't even know what that is," Ron added.

"Lame!" Cheryl groaned.

"Hey! Off The Dome has potential!" Ray snapped.

"Yeah the potential to be the biggest box office flop since Charlie Steen decided to violently torpedo his truth into his career," Pam remarked.

"Were you married to that title or…?" Ron asked.

"Well I was going to call it A Harding's Day Night…" Ray began. "Or The Tempest In A Teapot…"

"You should have called it an undertaker," Cheryl said.

"Dead on arrival," Cyril nodded.

"Fine Bitches!" Ray snapped. "You'll be happy to know I've decided to take it in a new direction!"

"Is that direction to the nearest garbage dump?" Cheryl asked. "Because that's where your lyrics belong."

"First of all," Ray snapped. "I told you it was a **rough draft!** Second of all I decided to make it a screenplay. A musical screenplay!"

"Oh yeah **there's** a difference," Pam rolled her eyes.

"No, here is where it changes," Ray told her.

"You get somebody to write it with actual **talent?"** Cheryl asked.

"YOU TAKE THAT BACK BITCH!" Ray screamed.

"MAKE ME!" Cheryl shouted.

"Guys please!" Cyril groaned.

"I see what you guys mean about the temper tantrums," Ron remarked.

Ray glared at Cheryl. "It's not like **you're** an expert on talent Ms. Washed Up Country Music Singer That Only Had One Big Hit And Lost Her Record Contract When She Set A Morning News Show On Fire!"

"I don't get that reference!" Cheryl snapped.

"Oh, then let me give you one you **will get**," Ray said snidely. "You think you're Lucy Ricardo. When actually…You're more like Laurie Foreman."

Cheryl gasped. "You take that **back!**"

"I shan't," Ray folded his arms and stuck his nose in the air. "I shan't. And I **won't**!"

Cheryl shot back. "Well **you **think you're the next Sue Ann Nivens. But actually, you're more like Helen Lovejoy. Without the _charm!_"

Ray made a horrified gasp. "Oh, that is **it!** You just signed yourself off for a serious slappin'!"

"BRING IT!" Cheryl screamed as she leapt over the table and tackled Ray.

CRASH! SMASH!

"If you weren't so into it, I'd choke your scrawny bitch neck!" Ray shouted as he and Cheryl fought on the floor, knocking over various items.

"At least when I pass out, I don't have to hear you **sing!**" Cheryl shouted.

"**Every time** he brings up that damn play…" Cyril groaned. "They go at it."

"Plus, Ray's singing isn't exactly, you know?" Krieger paused. "Good…"

"Sounds like a cat being serially strangled by another cat," Pam nodded.

"Scratch a diva, you get an assassin," Ron groaned.

"Are you talking about Ray or Cheryl?" Krieger asked.

"Pick one," Ron told him.

CRASH!

"Can somebody stop them?" Ron asked. "Before they wreck something."

CRASH!

Ray and Cheryl's fighting knocked over a small modern sculpture on a pedestal. "Okay before they wreck something **tasteful**," Ron amended.

"Can we wait until they rip off each other's clothes first?" Pam asked.

"PAM!" Cyril shouted.

"Oh, all right!" Pam groaned. She helped Krieger and Cyril pull the two combatants apart.

"Come on guys quit it!" Krieger said.

"SHE/HE STARTED IT!" Ray and Cheryl pointed at each other the same time.

"All right you two alley cats!" Pam snapped. "Knock it off! We've had this **exact same** argument before. And we all agreed. Cheryl is Ginger. Ray is Mary Ann."

Cheryl paused. "He does make a good coconut cream pie."

"She looks good in a gold dress," Ray admitted.

"Then who are **you?**" Ron asked Pam.

"I'm The Skipper! Duh!" Pam rolled her eyes.

"Of course," Ron sighed.

"As I was **saying,"** Ray glared at Cheryl. "I've decided to only use the Tea Pot Dome as a model for an original screenplay. With different people and everything."

"What do you mean by different people?" Ron asked.

"Different characters duh!" Ray said. "Instead of Albert Bacon Fall I've got Winter 'Ham' Albertson. Senator Thomas J. Walsh is Teresa Jane Watterson…"

"Seriously?" Pam asked.

"I think a strong female protagonist will really help the story," Ray shrugged.

"Can't go wrong there," Pam admitted.

"You're ripping off the Teapot Dome Scandal for your movie?" Cyril blinked.

"Hey! Hollywood rips off everything all the time!" Ray snapped. "The Lion King is nothing more than Hamlet with fuzzy animals!"

"And Timon and Pumbaa are basically Rosencrantz and Guildenstern with better survival skills," Cheryl added.

"That's right!" Ray nodded. "I just haven't decided where to set it. I've narrowed it down to either a 40's noir setting, a tropical island just before World War Two, or outer space in the future."

"Outer space," Pam said quickly.

"Definitely," Krieger nodded.

"Outer space," Cheryl said.

"I don't know," Cyril mused. "The island one sounded pretty good. But yeah, outer space is better."

"Just don't do the 40's one," Pam said.

"Yeah skip that," Krieger nodded. "I'm not saying it wouldn't be interesting but…"

"Outer space is better," Pam said.

"Much better," Ron added.

"Stick with outer space," Cheryl said.

"Okay this is good," Ray said. "Now **this** is the creative feedback I've been looking for!"

"Here's a creative idea," Ron groaned. "Can we get back to the game?"

"Fine," Pam sighed.

"Yes," Ray said at the same time.

"Why not?" Cheryl sighed as they all sat back down at the table.

Ray dealt out the cards. "So, what do you want to talk about Ron?"

"Anything that doesn't end up in a brawl," Ron told him.

Krieger spoke up. "I'm working on creating a new vegetable! It's a kind of carrot that tastes and looks like an apple! I call it…"

"A crapple?" Pam guessed.

"Wow," Krieger blinked. "That is a **much better** name. Can I use it?"

"God damn it Krieger!" Cyril groaned. "Haven't you learned anything after all those other insane experiments you've done over the years?"

"Yes. Yes, I have," Krieger nodded. "I learned if I keep doing it, you guys will try it."

"He's got you there, Cyril," Pam remarked. "Look genetic modified foods are all the rage now. The FDA is approving new ones all the time."

"Oh well if the **FDA** approves who are we to say no?" Cyril said sarcastically. "God forbid we go against the will of the F-D-FREAKING A!"

"You want to start **that** again?" Pam snapped.

"Yeah I think I **do**!" Cyril snapped.

"Uh oh," Krieger winced.

"Oh, here we go," Cheryl rolled her eyes.

"Every damn time he opens his mouth about that," Ray groaned.

"I know right?" Cheryl asked.

"You know what the FDA should stand for?" Cyril snapped. "Fraudulent Dumb Asses!"

"Who are you calling a dumb ass, Dumb Ass?" Pam shouted.

"How can you defend them?" Cyril shouted. "Their mistakes with tomatoes alone nearly destroyed the industry!"

"That was a simple mistake that anyone could make!" Pam snapped.

"They blamed tomatoes for a salmonella outbreak when it wasn't the tomatoes that caused it!" Cyril snapped. "It was poor hygienic practices that the FDA approved…"

"I'm gonna approve my fist smashing into your dumb face if you don't shut your pie hole!" Pam made a fist.

"Maybe if you stopped shoving pies in your hole and used your brain for a change…" Cyril shouted.

"THAT'S IT!" Pam roared. "IT'S GO TIME BITCH!"

"BRING IT!" Cyril screamed.

Soon the both of them were fighting on the floor. "I'll give Cyril this," Ray remarked. "He is lasting a lot longer in fights than he used to."

"He's getting used to being beaten up," Cheryl told him.

"So much for not starting a brawl," Krieger remarked. "Sorry guys. My bad."

"You didn't bring up the FDA," Ray pointed out. "It's not your fault those two went there."

"Why do they…?" Ron pointed.

"Don't ask," Ray and Cheryl said at the same time.

"AAAAHHRRRRR!" Pam screamed as she picked Cyril up and threw him across the room

SMASH! CRASH!

Cyril surprisingly got up and charged Pam with a chair, smashing it on her head. She went down but not for long.

"UHGGGHH!" She punched Cyril in the stomach and he went down. She jumped on top of him.

"Somebody should really do something," Ray said. "But not me."

"We have to stop them!" Ron shouted.

"Aww," Cheryl pouted. "Can't we wait until one of them dies? Probably Cyril."

"NO!" The other guys shouted.

"**Fine!"** Cheryl rolled her eyes and whistled. "HEY! IDIOTS!"

"WHAT?" Both Cyril and Pam shouted.

Cheryl took out a lighter. She calmly set the table on fire.

"JESUS CHRIST!" Ron shouted.

"NOOO! CHERYL!" Cyril and Pam forgot about their fight and got up to subdue Cheryl

"GET THE FIRE EXTINGUISHER!" Cyril screamed.

"On it!" Ray used his speed to grab one from a nearby wall and put the fire out.

Meanwhile everyone else restrained Cheryl. "Chery what were you **thinking?**" Cyril snapped as he grabbed the lighter from her.

"Uh saving your skull from being caved in by Pam's canned ham hard hands," Cheryl rolled her eyes. "You're welcome!"

"It is an effective technique," Pam admitted. "I'll give her that."

"Okay we can't talk about the FDA anymore!" Ray snapped. "That topic is **banned!**"

"I think I just figured out why poker night is usually banned," Ron groaned as he looked at the ruined table.

"NOO! Tell me some of the candy survived!" Pam realized some of the candy was burnt. She grabbed one and started eating. "Good news! It's still good! A little scorched and melted but still good!"

"You're eating the wrapper," Ray realized.

"It's fused to the candy," Pam munched. "Makes it crunchy."

"We should have the stomach pump ready," Cyril groaned.

"Nah, I'm good!" Pam waved. "This has a weird aftertaste. In a good way."

"Let's take a break from the card game," Ron suggested. "Considering some of the cards are burnt too."

"How about we have some drinks and sit outside?" Pam asked.

"Now that I can get behind," Ray said.

"Oh yeah," Cyril nodded.

"Okay Ray and I will get the drinks," Pam delegated. "Scotch okay?"

"Sounds good to me," Cyril said.

"Me too," Ron nodded.

"Yup, yup, yup," Krieger nodded.

"Okay, Cyril you get some snacks," Pam ordered.

"Oooh! We have some dark pretzels, Hawaiian pink sea salt chips and a lovely cheese platter I could bring out," Cyril realized. "I could make a simple tomato salad with some fresh mozzarella and balsamic vinegar."

"I thought I was supposed to be the gay one," Ray remarked.

"You know?" Cyril snapped.

"Ron you may need to help Cyril," Pam said. "Krieger and Cheryl, you two set up the deck!"

"I call setting up the fire pit!" Cheryl ran off.

"Wait do we **have** a fire pit?" Cyril asked.

"Uhh…" Pam blinked.

A few minutes later…

"HA HA HA!" Cheryl cackled as a small pile of lawn chairs burned on the back lawn. "BURN! BURN! BURN!"

"Oh look," Cyril sighed as he put down some chips on a nearby table. "Cheryl made one."

"This woman makes Charlie McGee look like an amateur," Ron winced.

"We might as well make use of it," Pam sighed as the others sat down on lawn chairs and got their drinks.

"Are you sure this is okay?" Ron pointed.

Cheryl was dancing around the fire. "FIRE POWER! FIRE POWER! FIRE POWER! OWWWWWWWOOOOOOOOOO!"

"Eh, it makes her happy," Pam waved as she took a drink. "And it will make the Prozac last a little longer."

Ron groaned as he took a drink. "That woman is a few matches short of a matchbook."

"We've noticed," Cyril sighed.

"It's a pretty night anyway," Ray looked up. "You can see the stars in the sky."

"Feel the gentle breeze on your skin," Pam sighed. "As well as the occasional mosquito! Die sucker!"

"Smell the burning of the chairs," Krieger added. "She's using real wooden ones. None of those fake plastic things."

"RARRRRRRRRRRRRRRR!"

"The sound of a pissed off ocelot," Ray groaned. "Spraying God knows where."

"RARRRRRRRR!"

"WHINE! WHIMPER! WHINE!"

"What's that sound?" Ron asked.

"Sounds like Dobermans," Krieger mused. "Scared Dobermans. I remember that sound. My father gave me some Dobermans when I was a child. They used to be scared of him. Until they turned on him and tore him limb from limb."

"RRRRRRRRRRARRRR!"

"WHINE! YIPE! YIPE! YIPE!"

"In hindsight," Krieger mused. "Maybe my father whipping them with a riding crotch wasn't the best way to teach them to behave?"

"RARRRR! RRARRRRR!"

"Guys…" Cyril realized something. "Remember a while ago when we shut off the electric fence because the cats that lived here tried to escape and got electrocuted?"

"Yeah…" Pam remembered.

"RARRRRRRR!"

"WHINE! WHINE! YELP! WHINE!"

"Did we ever turn that fence back **on?"** Cyril blinked.

"Uhhh…." Ray and Krieger looked at each other.

"You don't think…?" Pam asked.

"What?" Cheryl turned on them. "What's that noise? It's interfering with my arson buzz!"

"I think Babou is fighting the Dobermans next door," Ray realized. "Oh, sweet Marlon Perkins!"

"Come on!" Pam got up with Ray and Krieger. They went to see what was happening.

"Whatever!" Cheryl went back to dancing around her bonfire.

"This is why we can't have poker night at the agency anymore," Cyril sighed.

"This is why I need to get repairs done at my own place," Ron groaned. "Fast!"

About ten minutes later the others returned to find Cheryl was now sitting in a lounge chair drinking with Cyril and Ron. "Well?" Cyril asked. "What happened?"

"The good news is Babou is just fine," Ray groaned. "The bad news is that one of the Dobermans is dead and is now Babou's lunch."

"Man, that is a mean little crepuscular son of a bitch," Pam groaned.

"Are you telling me Babou took on a pack of **Dobermans?**" Cyril shouted. "Wait, weren't there like five of them next door?"

"Not anymore," Ray gulped.

"To be fair," Pam said. "It looks like one of the Dobermans got kicked in the head by the zebra and died."

"Wait that thing is real?" Cheryl said. "I thought that was one of my hallucinations!"

"You don't remember buying a **zebra**?" Pam shouted.

"I buy lots of shit online while high!" Cheryl snapped. "I can't remember everything!"

"It looks like another Doberman got smart and ran off," Krieger said. "So technically Babou only took on three Dobermans and killed one of them. I have no idea where the other two are."

"Hang on," Cheryl paused. "How did the zebra get over the fence. I get Babou…"

"It didn't," Ray said. "One of the Dobermans dug under the fence…"

"And then it came here and attacked the zebra," Cheryl got it. "And then Babou used the hole to go over…Okay. I got it now."

"Yeah and we're gonna get it when our neighbors find out we killed their dogs!" Cyril snapped.

"Technically only two of the dogs," Krieger said. "The others ran away."

"Something tells me they won't be back," Ray sighed. "I know I wouldn't."

"Relax," Cheryl waved. "They left yesterday for a six-month trip somewhere. I want to say Aruba. But I know that's not right. Anyway, they're gonna be gone for like forever. I said I'd watch the place for them and feed the dogs."

"Which you obviously didn't do," Ron groaned.

"Yeah…" Cheryl laughed.

"Now what do we do?" Cyril asked.

"Relax," Pam said. "It's not like we haven't covered up a dead body before. Okay usually it's a person so…"

"Krieger get the security camera footage," Ray said. "And erase it."

"Done and done," Krieger grinned.

"What about the dogs?" Ron asked.

"I'll just say they ran away," Cheryl waved. "Didn't really want to look after those stupid things anyway."

"Yeah you don't look after the animals you already have," Pam nodded.

"Then why did you say you would?" Ron asked incredulously.

"I dunno," Cheryl shrugged.

"What about the dead dogs?" Ron asked.

"I'll get the shovels," Pam offered.

"Ugh…" Ray groaned. "I **hate** this part."

"Me too," Cyril sighed.

"What part?" Ron did a double take. "Oh no…"

Twenty minutes later…

"Lord let's bow our heads," Ray said. There were two fresh mounds in Cheryl's garden. "Please have mercy on these poor puppies' souls! Amen!"

"How about some mercy on **ours**?" Ron groaned as he held a shovel.

"No such luck," Cyril grumbled as he put his shovel down. "I'm getting really tired of burying all the animals Babou killed."

"Well then you're in luck," Cheryl said. "The zebra killed that dog. That's a change of pace."

"RARRR!" Babou was sitting off in a distance.

"You shut up, you stupid cat!" Cyril pointed. "You've caused enough trouble tonight!"

"Don't yell at Babou!" Pam pointed.

"Don't yell at him while he's yelling at Babou!" Cheryl pointed.

"Why don't you just shut up?" Ray snapped at Cheryl.

"Why don't you **make me?"** Cheryl snapped back.

"Don't tempt me!" Cyril shouted back.

"I'd like to see you try!" Pam shouted.

"Oh God no…" Ron groaned. "Not again!"

Before anyone could stop them, Pam, Ray, Cyril and Cheryl were all fighting each other. "There they go again," Krieger said as the others brawled on the ground.

"We gotta stop them," Ron said.

"Do we have to?" Krieger asked as he took out his camera and recorded the fight. "Man, this camera films great at night!"

"Krieger!" Ron shouted.

"Aw let them get it out of their system," Krieger waved. "Or until one of them dies. Probably Cyril…"

"AAAKKK!" Cyril was being choked by Cheryl who was cackling wildly.

Ron made a sound of exacerbation and then made a loud whistle. "KNOCK IT OFF!"

"What?" Cheryl asked as she lost her concentration. Cyril shoved her off him.

The others stopped fighting. "So, what are we doing?" Pam asked as they all lay on the ground.

"Besides being idiots?" Krieger asked.

"You know…?" Pam looked at Krieger.

"You guys have more triggers than a gun show," Ron remarked. "You shouldn't be fighting over every little stupid thing!"

"He's right," Ray said as he got up. "This is stupid. There are more important things we should be doing than fighting."

"Like breaking into the house next door and stealing their alcohol and shit?" Cheryl asked.

"You read my mind," Ray grinned.

"I'm in," Cyril said.

"Me too," Pam nodded.

"Wait, **what?"** Ron did a double take.

"I cased the joint," Cheryl said. "They got some really good scotch there."

"Let's go!" Pam said.

"Yeah I want to see their décor and judge it," Ray nodded.

"Me too!" Cheryl giggled.

"We can't just rob somebody's house!" Ron protested.

"Why not?" Cheryl asked. "We already killed their dogs and tampered with their security system."

"If we get caught, we're gonna be blamed for theft anyway so…" Cyril paused. "If I'm going to the joint, I might as well do what I'm accused of."

"Nobody's going anywhere," Cheryl waved. "They won't be back for months and they have so much shit they're not gonna miss much. They already took everything really valuable so…"

"I'm gonna be blamed for this whether I participate or not, aren't I?" Ron groaned.

"Pretty much yeah," Ray shrugged.

"Damn it," Ron groaned as he followed the gang. "Every time I think I'm out they pull me back in again!"

Thirty minutes later the gang returned to the house. Laden with goods and clothing. "Oh my god!" Pam walked in wearing a fancy dress with a tiara. "I can't believe that rich bitch and I are the same size!"

"I can't believe people with that much money have orange wallpaper," Ray walked in wearing a purple bathrobe and a feather boa over his clothes. "Tac-ky!"

"Some of the jewelry is nice though," Cheryl looked at a pretty diamond bracelet on her wrist. "God, I love the rush of stealing things!"

"I can't believe they left stashes of money all over the place," Cyril remarked. He was counting some money and wore a fedora.

"I got a couple grand for my retirement fund," Ray waved some money.

"Me too," Krieger showed his money. "Or something really cool off the Internet I want."

"Ooh even better!" Pam grinned.

"I thought I was over this crap," Ron sighed as he looked at a bottle of expensive scotch in his hand. Then checked his wrist. "On the other hand, this is a really nice watch."

"They are nice," Cyril looked at the new watch on his wrist. "Still…I can't believe we just went over there and stole things after killing their dogs. It seems kind of mean…It can't be just me right?"

"Oh, like we haven't done this **before?**" Ray rolled his eyes.

"Yeah like with Veronica Deane's house," Pam counted. "Shapiro's house. Cheryl's cousins' houses. That one guy that died."

"That other guy that died," Cheryl added.

"San Marcos…" Ray added. "Where you took over the freaking country!"

"Oh, dear God…" Cyril stopped. "It's official. We're now a burglary ring."

"More like the Ding-A-Ling Ring…" Pam giggled drunkenly. "I'm headed to bed ding dongs. Night…"

"Nighty night…" Cheryl giggled. "Oh, I forgot! I wonder if they have good glue? Eh, I'll check tomorrow morning."

"You think they left any stamps?" Cyril asked as the others went to bed.

Leaving Ron and Krieger behind. "God, I love poker night," Krieger grinned. "That was fun!"

Ron looked at Krieger in horror. "Are you **insane?** Tonight, we had three brawls, two fires, several pieces of destroyed furniture, an ocelot attack, covered up some dog murders, and committed burglary."

"It was a quiet night, wasn't it?" Krieger smiled.


End file.
